


Take a Deep Breath

by fuzipenguin



Series: Sideswipe Watches Too Much Porn [3]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Double Penetration, Fisting, Multi, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sideswipe's sleazy sex talk, Sticky Sex, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-16
Updated: 2014-04-16
Packaged: 2018-01-19 15:10:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1474318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzipenguin/pseuds/fuzipenguin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sideswipe latches onto the idea of double penetration like a cyberhound puppy with a new toy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take a Deep Breath

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dracoqueen22](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracoqueen22/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Trick is to Keep Breathing](https://archiveofourown.org/works/864393) by [dracoqueen22](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracoqueen22/pseuds/dracoqueen22). 



> This started out as a PWP bribe which bloomed into a lengthy porny sequel to dracoqueen22's 'The Trick is to Keep Breathing' and lead-in to my own 'Sideswipe in the Middle'. You can probably read this without having read 'The Trick is to Keep Breathing', but you should anyway because it's hot like burning

 

“Sooo… round two now?” Sideswipe asked hopefully.

Sunstreaker allowed his head to fall backwards, landing heavily upon Sideswipe’s shoulder. His golden plating was still flared, fans whirling madly, and already his brother was chasing after their next overloads.

Ratchet sat up, optics bright with charge despite own release just minutes earlier. He pulled a towel from subspace and wiped down his arm before gently running the soft cloth across Sunstreaker’s thighs and pelvic plating.

“Maybe your brother would like a rest,” Ratchet suggested with a pointed look at Sunstreaker’s twin.

Sideswipe’s hands lightly stroked Sunstreaker’s heaving sides. “Naw. Stamina. We gots it.”

Closing his optics, Sunstreaker groaned. “Stop it with the stupid webspeak, Sides,” he said. He meant it to come out sharper, but complacency made it more pouting than anything.

His brother nuzzled Sunstreaker’s helm vent. “Make me,” Sideswipe purred, knowing full well that Sunstreaker was feeling too lazy to really do anything but complain.

“Do you want a break?” Ratchet asked outright, optics flickering up to Sunstreaker’s faceplates before looking back down to his exposed interface equipment. Ratchet reached out a hand and gently brushed his knuckles against the fluttering valve rim, prompting Sunstreaker to shiver.

“We’ll never hear the end of it,” Sunstreaker warned, ex-venting a put upon sigh.

Sideswipe was vibrating with excitement, their bond narrowed but his end lit up with anticipation. Sunstreaker almost regretted Ratchet finding out about Sunstreaker’s kink for fisting. It was after that Ratchet had tentatively suggested double penetration, but it was Sideswipe who had latched onto the idea and had been championing it for weeks. Battles and wounds had delayed the act, but now they all had matching off shifts, and Sideswipe had been practically wriggling with enthusiasm the entire ‘round one’.

As Sunstreaker had teased a release from Ratchet via his glossa and mouth, Sideswipe had thrust into Sunstreaker from behind. Sideswipe had been so wound up and his overload so intense that his hands had dented Sunstreaker’s hips, much to his displeasure.

Not even taking a moment to recover, Sideswipe had immediately withdrawn his cord and fallen to his side, tugging Sunstreaker down and against Sideswipe’s chest. He had then wasted no time plunging his hand between Sunstreaker’s thighs to pump three fingers into the dripping valve. Sideswipe had reluctantly switched his attentions to Sunstreaker’s spike when Ratchet recovered enough to ease his fist inside Sunstreaker’s valve. Under their combined attentions, completion had overtaken Sunstreaker in under a minute.

And now Sideswipe was ready for ‘round two’. Sunstreaker could only summon a mild exasperation for his overeager brother. To be honest, Sunstreaker was feeling just as much excitement as his twin. Taking Ratchet’s fist had exceeded all his expectations, and he was more than ready to feel his lovers’ spikes fighting for space inside him.

“He’ll wait if you need to,” Ratchet growled with a warning glance above Sunstreaker’s shoulder.

“I will,” Sideswipe agreed, glossa flicking out and tickling Sunstreaker’s audial. An apologetic pulse flashed across their bond as Sideswipe snuggled close. Sunstreaker patted Sideswipe’s arm where it wrapped across Sunstreaker’s torso.

“I know,” Sunstreaker said to his twin in a low voice, more than familiar with Sideswipe’s tendency to rush headlong into new pleasures of the berth.

“But I’m fine,” Sunstreaker continued, reassuring Ratchet. “Where do you want me?”

“On top. Facing me,” Sideswipe immediately responded before Ratchet could speak. The medic raised an optic ridge at the swiftness of Sideswipe’s reply.

Sunstreaker sat up, Sideswipe still clinging to his back. Irritably, Sunstreaker shrugged his brother off, the ‘to the Pits with everything’ haze of overload beginning to fade.

“Thought about this, have you?” Sunstreaker asked. He wasn’t surprised; their interfacing had always been frequent, but after Ratchet had fisted Sunstreaker for the first time, Sideswipe had been near insatiable.

“Lots,” Sideswipe said, winking an optic.

Ratchet frowned. “It might be a little easier if you were on your back, facing me,” he said.

“ _No_. Towards me. I want to see his face,” Sideswipe replied, oddly insistent.

Sunstreaker held up a hand, forestalling Ratchet’s protest. “I don’t need easier. Lie back,” he instructed Sideswipe.

His brother immediately flopped down, reaching towards Sunstreaker with grabby hands. Sideswipe’s spike was already fully pressurized again, rising proudly from between fluid-smeared thighs.

Sunstreaker shook his head at Sideswipe’s wriggling fingers, unable to stop the fond smile forming on his faceplates. He rolled to his knees, throwing a leg over Sideswipe’s and hovering above his twin’s lap. Sunstreaker smirked at Sideswipe, reaching out to teasingly stroke his brother’s cord.

“Sun _nnny_ …” Sideswipe whined, tugging at Sunstreaker’s knees where they rested on either side of Sideswipe’s waist. “Come _on_ … I wanna feel how stretched you are!”

“Are you sure you’re ok with this?” Ratchet asked, hand hovering above Sunstreaker’s shoulder. “You don’t have to just because I brought it up.”

Despite their lover’s words, Sunstreaker could see the hungry look on Ratchet’s faceplates as he watched Sunstreaker lower himself enough to rub the tip of Sideswipe’s spike against Sunstreaker’s valve entrance. Sideswipe whined wordlessly, hands restlessly stroking up and down Sunstreaker’s thighs.

“I’m sure,” Sunstreaker replied, his valve spasming from receiving stimulation so soon after overload. Almost as impatient as his brother, Sunstreaker finally gave up teasing and fully impaled himself, aft settling atop Sideswipe’s thighs. He briefly closed his optics to savor the feeling of being full again; fisting always made him feel so horribly empty afterwards.

Sunstreaker turned his head to face Ratchet, optic shutters slitting open just a fraction.

“If you don’t want to join us, then don’t,” Sunstreaker said in a deceptively mild tone. He began circling his pelvis, enjoying the press of Sideswipe’s cord against sensor nodes that were still weakly firing off charge. Sideswipe let out a low moan at the motions, lower lipplates caught between his denta.

“I really don’t think you want to miss out on this, Ratch,” Sideswipe added, words burred around the edges with static. “Primus, Sunny, you’re so _wet_. I can _hear_ me moving inside you.”

Sideswipe drove his pelvis upwards, Sunstreaker shivering in response; his twin was right. Sunstreaker was loose and sloppy from his own natural lubricants as well as the artificial ones Ratchet had copiously used while fisting him. Every motion produced an audibly slick sound.

“I never said anything about not wanting to join you,” Ratchet hurried to say, kneeling on the berth. He straddled Sideswipe’s legs as well, placing gentle hands on Sunstreaker’s lower back. “Lean forward.”

Sunstreaker did as Ratchet instructed, resting his weight on palms placed on either side of Sideswipe’s chassis. Reluctantly, Sunstreaker paused his rocking pelvis as Ratchet’s fingers, dripping with even more lube, circled Sunstreaker’s valve.

“He’s so bossy,” Sideswipe commented with a lopsided grin, optics popping open as Sunstreaker stilled.

“Yeah. Almost like he’s in charge of something,” Sunstreaker said, smiling back.

Ratchet ignored them, shuffling closer. The warmth of his frame buffeted Sunstreaker’s back, his palm nearly burning as it gripped Sunstreaker’s hip. Something hot and blunt nosed up against the rim of Sunstreaker’s valve, slipping in all the wetness there.

“Ready?” Ratchet asked, voice shaky.

Sunstreaker nodded as Ratchet’s spike pressed incessantly against the joining of Sideswipe’s cord and Sunstreaker’s valve. He tried his best to remain relaxed and open, but anticipation made him tense.

“Sunny?” Sideswipe prompted.

“Yes,” Sunstreaker blurted out after a distracted moment.

Ratchet had scolded him on more than one occasion for not communicating clearly during interfacing. Sunstreaker had a tendency to get lost in the sensations, going quiet or even silent. It had unnerved Ratchet the first few times, especially during some of their more kinky play. Sunstreaker didn’t see it as a problem; he trusted Ratchet and knew the medic would never hurt him or Sideswipe, but Ratchet still wanted that verbal ok. Sideswipe could always be counted on to keep a running commentary going, but Sunstreaker had to be reminded to speak up.

“This is gonna be awesome, Sunny, I promise,” Sideswipe murmured. “Oh, frag… I can feel him. That’s Ratchet’s spike. That’s… it’s… are you feeling this?!”

“ _Sideswipe_ ,” Sunstreaker growled through gritted denta as the head of Ratchet’s spike suddenly popped past the resistance from the valve’s entrance. Ratchet’s cord sunk several inches deep before he halted. The cables in his neck going weak, Sunstreaker’s head dropped down, his mouth agape.

“Oh, _Primus_. So _tight_ ,” Ratchet whispered. His helm thunked forward against Sunstreaker’s back, the medic’s shaking hands clamping down on Sunstreaker’s waist. “Sunny, are you alright?”

Sunstreaker shook his head. Then he nodded. He was completely unable to form words, too wrapped up in the contradictory messages his frame was giving him. His valve was screaming warning signals, his interface protocols were pinging him with ecstasy, and he couldn’t tell if the pain or pleasure was winning. He desperately wanted - _needed_ \- to move, but was frozen in place.

“Fuckin’ Primus on a pogo stick!” Sideswipe exclaimed, fans screaming as they suddenly sped up. “You’re doing it! You’re taking both of us! Ohhh,” he moaned, heated ventilations brushing the top of Sunstreaker’s helm. “I wish I could see it. Ratchet, please tell me you’re recording this. You gotta be recording this; this is the hottest thing, like ever!” he babbled.

“Sunstreaker!” Ratchet repeated, insistent. He was trembling against Sunstreaker’s back, waiting to see if he was all right. Sunstreaker realized his clenched cables and contradictory nonverbal responses were probably terrifying the medic, and he took several slow and measured ventilations.

“’S’good, Ratch. More,” Sunstreaker finally managed, slowly forcing too tight cables to relax.

“Are you sure?” As if he couldn’t wait for an answer, Ratchet withdrew a fraction and then slid back even deeper a moment later. Sunstreaker was too caught up in the moment to be embarrassed by the whimper that escaped him.

Sideswipe made an indignant sounding noise in the back of his intake. “He can take it!” he boasted. “He can take anything, can’t you, Sunshine?” Sideswipe asked, voice quieting as he stroked across Sunstreaker’s chest and shoulders.

Sunstreaker could only nod weakly, too overwhelmed to lift his head. His optics were fixed on the crimson armor covering his brother’s chest, and he trembled as the charge exponentially built. The medic hadn’t even bottomed out yet, Sideswipe was amazingly keeping still, and Sunstreaker was already fighting off overload.

“My pretty Sunshine,” Sideswipe crooned, petting the back of Sunstreaker’s helm. “You’re dripping, and hot, and Ratch’s making you so _tight_ …” As if echoing Sunstreaker’s thoughts, Sideswipe bucked upwards slightly.

“Stop… calling me… oh… oh _frag_ …” Sunstreaker groaned, optics flickering so badly he finally turned them off. Ratchet withdrew and thrust again, deep enough that Ratchet’s pelvis met the back of Sunstreaker’s thighs.

Sunstreaker’s frame suddenly seized, his fingers digging furrows into the berth beneath them. He moaned loudly as his back arched, pelvis grinding down to get the spikes as deep as possible within his clutching valve.

Distantly, he heard Ratchet’s raised voice, smelled the sting of ozone and burnt wires, but didn’t pay either much attention as he was gripped in one of the most intense overloads of his life.

It felt like an eternity later that his joints loosened, and he sagged forward, Sideswipe catching and lowering Sunstreaker to lie limply across his twin’s chest. He was stuffed full, pleasure still thrumming through his substructure, and he didn’t think he would be able to move even if Bruticus magically appeared and started kicking the Ark.

“Wow. Already?” Sideswipe murmured, arms still tight around Sunstreaker’s shoulders.

A tell-tale tickle across his armor indicated that Ratchet was doing a quick scan, and Sunstreaker groaned, struggling to get his arms beneath him. They were being extremely uncooperative, and he quickly gave up.

“Shuddup,” he muttered into the side of Sideswipe’s neck, a little embarrassed at how quickly overload had taken him.

“No, no, not like that,” Sideswipe rushed to assure him, hands fluttering over Sunstreaker’s helm and shoulders. One hand finally latched onto a helm fin, and he allowed himself to be turned so he could look into his twin’s optics.

“It’s good,” Sideswipe purred, craning his neck to plant a kiss against Sunstreaker’s cheek. “That’s one, baby. How many more are you gonna give us?”

Sideswipe’s hips snapped up with a soft screech of metal, and Sunstreaker shuddered at the aftershocks the motion prompted. His valve felt raw and way too sensitive, but he couldn’t quite find it in him to ask for a break.

“Keep doing that, and we’ll find out,” Sunstreaker replied, giving sitting up another go. “Help me up,” he said gruffly, arms shaking as they attempted to support his weight.

He finally managed to prop himself up by tucking his elbows in close to his body and resting his forearms on Sideswipe’s chassis. Ratchet had a comforting arm wrapped around Sunstreaker’s belly, anchoring him from behind. Encompassed by his twin and Ratchet, Sunstreaker felt an odd moment of complete safety, secure in the knowledge that neither of them would ever hurt him.

“Is this a good position for you?” Ratchet asked behind, softly stroking Sunstreaker’s abdominal plating. The medic’s scan had ended just seconds earlier, and Sunstreaker assumed that it hadn’t found anything too disturbing since Ratchet hadn’t said anything.

“I don’t think I could move if I wanted to,” Sunstreaker replied truthfully. “Just keep going.”

Ratchet complied with a soft noise, slowly withdrawing. Sideswipe took the opportunity to drive deeper, and they soon fell into a rhythm, pulling out as the other pushed in. Sunstreaker concentrated on staying upright, the sensations too intense to do anything else.

Sideswipe gripped his helm fins and pulled his head downwards, capturing Sunstreaker’s lips in a scorching kiss. Sunstreaker’s jaw dropped in a moan from a particularly hard thrust from Ratchet, and Sideswipe broke away to pepper kisses across Sunstreaker’s cheek struts.

“Look at you. Beautiful,” Sideswipe murmured, sounding almost awed.

Normally, Sunstreaker would have preened under the praise, but for some reason he ducked his head away from Sideswipe’s admiring stare.

Sideswipe wouldn’t let him hide for long, grabbing hold of his chin and forcing his head back up.

“You’re blushing!” Sideswipe teased.

“We don’t… don’t blush,” Ratchet said, now smoothly stroking in and out of Sunstreaker’s valve. The medic’s fans were whirling loudly, his frame putting off furnace-like heat.

“Well, if we did, Sunny would be,” Sideswipe said, looking over Sunstreaker’s shoulder. “You never answered me; are you recording back there?”

Ratchet’s rhythm stuttered. “… yes.”

“Mmmm,” Sideswipe moaned, thumb stroking over Sunstreaker’s lower lipplate. “You send me that. Soon as this is over.”

“You’re… ridiculous,” Sunstreaker said, his vocalizer hitching. _Primus_ , he was so full! Charge built within him steadily, much slower than the last overload, but no less delicious. Ratchet was definitely picking up speed, Sideswipe matching him, and Sunstreaker’s valve thrummed with pleasure.

Sideswipe’s smile grew. “You love me.

“Suck,” he commanded, sliding his thumb into Sunstreaker’s mouth. Sunstreaker did as Sideswipe instructed, glad to be able to do _something_. He wanted so badly to move, to rock his hips and ride the spikes at his own speed. But it was also more arousing than he had anticipated to just be still and take it.

“Sideswipe… are you…?” Ratchet asked, fingers digging into Sunstreaker’s waist as his pace quickened further.

Sideswipe nodded, optic shutters slitting with pleasure. “Close, yeah. So’s Sunny. It’s gonna be good, isn’t it, bro? _Slag_ … you’re so hot. I bet you look so good taking our spikes, stretched and open around the both of us. I’m gonna make you _watch_ that vid, make you see how beautiful you are like this…”

Ratchet made a garbled sound from behind Sunstreaker. He knew the medic wasn’t going to last much longer; Ratchet’s rhythm was becoming erratic, his thrusts short and jabbing.

“ _Sideswipe_ … you…” Ratchet choked out, words being consumed by static.

Sunstreaker’s gaze was locked on to his brother’s, Sideswipe’s jaw dropping a little as Sunstreaker bit down lightly on the digit in his mouth.

“Fuck, _yes_ …” Sideswipe hissed, reaching up with his other hand to cradle Sunstreaker’s cheek.

Sunstreaker leaned into the touch, optic shutters fluttering closed as Ratchet moaned behind him. The medic shuddered, hands clamping down so tightly that Sunstreaker knew he’d have more dents to match Sideswipe’s. But it was all worth it as Ratchet shoved deep, pelvis grinding against Sunstreaker’s aft. He swore that the medic’s spike swelled even bigger for an instant before pulsing out molten-hot transfluid, coating the interior of Sunstreaker’s valve.

“Oh!” Sideswipe exclaimed softly, sounding so surprised that Sunstreaker reopened his optics to stare down at his brother’s face.

Sideswipe’s gaze was vacant as it fixed on some point above Sunstreaker’s helm. The red twin shivered, the motion starting in his shoulders and traveling down his frame in a wave that Sunstreaker could actually feel.

“Slag. _Slag_ ,” Sideswipe whimpered. As Ratchet’s motions slowed and stopped, Sideswipe’s hands slipped from Sunstreaker’s face, flying down to tangle with Ratchet’s fingers on Sunstreaker’s waist. He pulled downwards, driving up into Sunstreaker’s valve with a ferocity muted by Ratchet’s and Sunstreaker’s combined weights.

Whining, Sideswipe leaned up, his lips meeting Sunstreaker’s again, the push of his glossa desperate. Sunstreaker quickly broke away from the kiss, cheek pressing against his twin’s.

“You haven’t had a turn in the middle yet, you know,” Sunstreaker whispered softly. “I want you in _my_ lap, our spikes sunk so deep you won’t be able to walk right for days.”

Sunstreaker smirked, unseen by his brother as Sideswipe made a choked noise. Sunstreaker rarely spoke during their interfacing, but when he did, it was always guaranteed to push Sideswipe over the edge.

Now was no exception.

Keening, Sideswipe’s back bowed so violently that he nearly threw both Sunstreaker and Ratchet off. More heat bloomed deep within Sunstreaker’s lower abdomen as Sideswipe overloaded, transfluid seeping out around Ratchet’s and Sideswipe’s spikes.

After several moments, Sideswipe collapsed back down onto the berth, optics dark and mouth opened and panting.

“That…” Sideswipe murmured, lips weakly curving into a smile. “… was awesome.”

Sunstreaker grunted in reply, a little annoyed with how Ratchet was draped over him, restricting movement. Overload was close, tantalizingly so, and Sunstreaker swiveled his hips, trying to get some of the friction back.

Optical ridges furrowing, Sideswipe stared up at Sunstreaker. “You didn’t…?”

At Sunstreaker’s shake of the helm, Sideswipe frowned, and Sunstreaker felt Sideswipe’s hands shove at Ratchet’s.

“Up. Get up, Ratchet! We owe Sunny an overload.”

“Well, actually…” Sunstreaker began, but Ratchet was already withdrawing his cord, prompting Sunstreaker to wince as his sore valve tried to spiral down from its immense stretch. Fluids began trickling out to trail down Sunstreaker’s thighs.

“Feeling ok?” Ratchet asked, fingers probing at Sunstreaker’s interface array. He didn’t have much time to perform a full exam; as soon as Ratchet lifted off Sideswipe’s legs, he rolled to the side, taking Sunstreaker with him.

An embarrassing yelp emerged from Sunstreaker’s lips as he unexpectedly landed on his back, over-taut wires and cables protesting the sudden movement. Sideswipe pushed away, Sunstreaker’s valve immediately protesting the loss.

“Sides, you _aft_ , what are you…” Sunstreaker hissed. Sideswipe shoved Sunstreaker’s legs apart, kneeling there and staring with frank admiration at his interface equipment.

Bemused expression on his faceplates, Ratchet leaned over and followed Sideswipe’s line of sight.

“You’re so open,” Sideswipe whispered, reaching out a hand and lightly stroking across Sunstreaker’s valve. He could feel the rim twitch weakly in response, more fluids flooding out of him as his valve’s inner calipers clenched down on nothing.

Sideswipe dipped his hand in the mix of transfluid and lubricant and slid four fingers inside Sunstreaker without any preamble. Sunstreaker moaned, his helm falling back at the burst of pleasure the action caused. His waning charge suddenly sat up and took notice, more than ready to finish what had been started.

His head snapped back up, optics glaring at his brother. “Give me all of it,” Sunstreaker growled. “Don’t tease.”

Sideswipe’s optics rose to meet Sunstreaker’s, lipplates curving in a grin. “Wouldn’t dream of it, bro.”

“Slowly, go slowly!” Ratchet cautioned as Sideswipe withdrew his hand enough to tuck his thumb alongside his fingers. The medic started to grab for Sideswipe’s wrist, but Sunstreaker intercepted the motion.

“Sides is fine. Why don’t you occupy yourself elsewhere,” Sunstreaker suggested, directing the medic’s hand to his spike cover, which snapped open as soon as Ratchet made contact.

“Yeah. _Yeah_ , Ratch,” Sideswipe murmured absently as he devoted his attentions to Sunstreaker’s valve. “Suck him off.”

Sideswipe’s whole hand pressed inside, slowly but steadily. Sunstreaker sighed in relief as the aching emptiness was relieved again, valve clutching at Sideswipe’s arm.

“I was wrong. _This_ is the hottest thing ever,” Sideswipe gasped, optics wide and focused on the point where his arm disappeared into Sunstreaker’s body. “I shouldn’t have let Ratchet hog all the fun. You’re amazing, you know that?” he asked, gaze rising to meet Sunstreaker’s.

“You’re beautiful and amazing and I love you and you need to overload for us. Now, Sunny. Now, come on,” Sideswipe babbled, withdrawing his arm to the level of his wrist and then pushing back in. His hand wasn’t as wide as Ratchet’s, but Sideswipe’s long fingers pressed against the deepest sensor nodes in Sunstreaker’s valve, rubbing over them in maddening little strokes.

Sunstreaker bucked up, shouting as Ratchet bent his head and swallowed the head of Sunstreaker’s spike. He shook, tremors making his plating rattle, and his legs spread wider. Waves of pleasure spread across his frame, his struts aching with it. He was close, so very close…

“Come on, baby,” Sideswipe coaxed. “I want to see you, Sunny, do it now. Now, come on, now, now, now,” he chanted, arm picking up speed.

Ratchet hummed in agreement, stroking the bit of Sunstreaker’s spike that the medic couldn’t fit in his mouth.

The waves were coming closer together now, his pelvis tilting into every one of Sideswipe’s thrusts. Sunstreaker could _taste_ the ozone on the back of his glossa, but he couldn’t quite…

“Next time,” Sideswipe began, optics burning bright, “next time, Ratchet’s gonna do this and me… I’m gonna take your spark.”

At the thought of merging, Sunstreaker’s spark leapt in its casing. It was enough to push him over the edge that he had been teetering on for the past minute.

A high-pitched wail tore out of Sunstreaker’s throat, ringing in his audials. His valve cycled down tight around Sideswipe’s hand at the same time that his spike pulsed transfluid into Ratchet’s mouth. He stared sightlessly up at the ceiling, error messages from every system flashing through his processor as the pleasure crashed over him. Nearly every joint in his body locked up, the cables along his back struts tightening so much that he had a split second worry they would tear.

Dimly, he heard Sideswipe murmuring to him, felt Ratchet’s hands fluttering across his chest, and then everything went dark.

\--

His audials were the first secondary sensors that came back online.

Whispered words floated to his processor, Sideswipe’s voice soft and lilting as he spoke in the twinspeak they so rarely used anymore. Sunstreaker just lay in hazy contentment and listened to the endearments until his motor relays came back online. When he twitched his fingers, Sideswipe stopped speaking and pressed his cheek to Sunstreaker’s instead.

Sunstreaker’s vocalizer had to be reset three times before actual words and not static came out. “Ratch?” he questioned when he didn’t immediately sense their lover nearby.

“Right here,” came the medic’s voice, followed by a firm yet gentle hand landing on his chest. “Do you think you can sit up?”

Sunstreaker hesitated. “Not on my own.”

“Then we’ll help. Your fluid reserves are depleted; you need to replace them.”

Optics still offline, he allowed Sideswipe and Ratchet to slide arms beneath him and prop him up. He ended up leaning against Sideswipe’s chest, the soothing purr of his twin’s engine vibrating Sunstreaker’s back.

A cube was placed against his lips, and Sunstreaker opened his mouth, drinking the energon eagerly. As soon as he finished, another cube replaced the first, and Sunstreaker consumed that too. Halfway through, his optics finally booted up, and he stared into Ratchet’s face as the medic held the energon for him. The medic didn’t seem all that worried, and Sunstreaker relaxed more fully against Sideswipe’s chest. He noted that Ratchet’s plating had been wiped down except for the random bit of drying lubricant and that Sunstreaker’s armor was the same.

His twin was stroking Sunstreaker’s chassis in broad, gentle sweeps, humming quietly. Sideswipe’s end of their bond was quiet, wide open, and his chin came to rest atop Sunstreaker’s shoulder. Sideswipe was nearly always in motion, restless energy coursing through him; it was nice to feel his twin serene.

“Did you record it all?” Sunstreaker asked, leaning his helm back enough to brush his nasal plate against Sideswipe’s cheek.

“Between the two of us, yeah. It looked like you had a good time.”

“I did,” Sunstreaker said. “You?” His optics slid over to Ratchet who had come to sit by Sunstreaker’s feet.

“I’m getting too old for this,” Ratchet grumbled good-naturedly, which was Ratchet-speak for ‘yes and when can we do that again?’

“Did you mean it? About my turn next?” Sideswipe asked, suddenly sitting up a little straighter. His fingers slid suggestively into the transformation seams across Sunstreaker’s chest.

Sunstreaker groaned. Well, it had been nice while it lasted.

“Yes. But another day. I need to recharge. Do you think you can keep your spike under your plating for that long?” Sunstreaker retorted.

Sideswipe hummed, hands moving to neutral territory after a lingering caress. “I suppose. Come on, Ratch. Big bad Sunny needs his cuddles now.”

“No, I don’t!” Sunstreaker growled, but willingly went with Sideswipe as he twisted and slid down to lie on his back. Sunstreaker curled against his twin, watching with slitted optics as Ratchet crawled up the berth. The medic lay on his side and carefully embraced Sunstreaker from behind, the warmth of his plating soothing Sunstreaker’s sore back.

“We’re not cuddling, Ratch. You should know that. This absolutely is _not_ cuddling,” Sideswipe said, poking his head up to look over Sunstreaker’s shoulder at the medic.

Sunstreaker reached up and shoved Sideswipe’s head back down. “Shut up! You’re such a glitch.”

“You love me!” Sideswipe said in a sing-song voice and then snuggled closer, smile on his lips.

And the thing is, Sunstreaker absolutely did. And with Ratchet pressed against him, guarding his back, he thought that just maybe, it wouldn’t be a stretch for him to end up loving Ratchet too.

 

~ End


End file.
